


all the time in the world

by helsinkibaby



Category: The Following, Warehouse 13
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Community: casestory, F/M, Het, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-30
Updated: 2014-06-30
Packaged: 2018-02-06 18:30:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1867971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/helsinkibaby/pseuds/helsinkibaby
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When something unusual happens to Debra, Mike knows just where to go for help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	all the time in the world

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Art for helsinkibaby's all the time in the world](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858719) by [taibhrigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taibhrigh/pseuds/taibhrigh). 



> This was inspired by a prompt by celticghardy at comment_fic which was basically "Steve always gets nervous when the twin brother he doesn't talk to turns up at the B&B". That inspired the idea and case story got me to write it!  
> Thanks to taibhrigh for the wonderful art!

When he hears the unmistakable sound of china shattering against the hard wooden floor of the kitchen, Mike's feet are moving before he's even aware of it. He makes short work of going down the stairs, rounds the corner at a skid and he's standing in front of Debra before the last of the china shards have stopped spinning on the floor. She's standing in front of him, eyes staring sightlessly into the distance, a livid red cut across the palm of one hand dripping blood onto the floor. Mike mutters a curse under his breath, grabs a clean towel from the stack on the dresser and grabs her hand, pressing the cloth against it. He doesn't bother asking what happened; that falls to Debra when she blinks once, then twice, and her dark eyes meet his. 

"It happened again." 

It's actually a statement, not a question, and all Mike can do is nod slowly. "Yeah," he says. "It happened again." He can still feel the slight tremor in the hand he's holding, the shaking they've both become accustomed to over the last couple of months. They've been a regular occurrence ever since the Havenport woods and the doctors at the first two hospitals had told them that they were perfectly normal. A side effect of the oxygen deprivation, they'd said; they'll disappear in a few days. 

Except they didn't disappear; if anything they'd become stronger, more frequent. The last doctor they'd seen had told them that the tremors were psychosomatic, a result of the trauma Debra had suffered and Mike's not so sure that they're wrong. Of course, it's one thing to believe that; it's quite another to deal with the consequences, to see the look of confusion on Debra's face when she comes back to herself, to witness her pain and frustration at her body's betrayal of her. 

"I'm sorry," she tells him and he shakes his head. 

"You have nothing to be sorry about," he tells her, not for the first time. He's not just saying that either, really believes it, just like he believes that the more he tells Debra that, the more likely she is to believe it, the more likely it is to help her get better. He knows enough about psychology and the workings of the human mind to know that the last might just be wishful thinking, but he also knows that it can't hurt. 

Debra glances down at the floor, at the shattered pieces of crockery. "Looks like we're going shopping," she quips weakly and Mike silences her with a raised eyebrow. 

"Let's make sure we don't need to take you to the emergency room," he says, because there was a lot of blood and the gash he'd seen had looked deep. Carefully, he peels the towel away from her skin, not wanting to hurt her, just waiting for the inevitable hiss and wince. 

Neither come. 

Neither come because when Mike peels the cloth away from her skin, there is not a mark on her palm. 

Nothing of the cut he'd seen only moments earlier. 

Nothing that would explain the blood that was mingling with china pieces on the floor, staining the cloth in his hand. 

Mike stares at Debra's palm for a long moment and feels his own blood run cold. 

The sensation gets no better when he looks up, looks into Debra's eyes, sees the same knowledge there. 

Slowly, she says words that she already said moments earlier, words that have a deeper significance now. "It happened again."

Because this isn't the first time something like this has happened. A bloodied and near broken nose during the Carroll case being pain free the next morning - it mustn't have been as bad as she'd thought, or the case distracted her from the pain. Bruises from being held in a choke hold fading rapidly; Jacob mustn't have been holding her as tightly as she'd thought, her fear exaggerating his grip. Left for dead in the Maryland woods? Ryan's CPR had done its job after all, albeit belatedly. 

This, though?

This one can't be explained away. Mike knows that and he takes a deep breath in, lets it out slowly. "I think," he tells her, "I know somewhere we can go for help."

*

"Steeeeeeeeve!"

Claudia's wail echoes through the front hall and up the stairs of the B&B, reaches all the way into Steve's room through a closed door. He's on his feet in an instant, opening the door and hurrying down the stairs. There are any number of things that could have Claudia calling his name like that, in that tone of bewilderment and confusion, most of them having to do with some sort of artifact related emergency. Somehow though, and he doesn't know why, Steve knows that it's nothing Warehouse related and something entirely him-related. Call it intuition, call it a twin thing, call it whatever you want, but he knows what - or rather who - he's going to see when he gets to the foot of the stairs.

Sure enough, when he reaches the bottom, he sees Claudia standing with her back flush against the wall, staring at his identical twin brother with wary suspicion etched deep on her face. He doesn't spend much time registering that though, looks Mike from head to foot instead. There's a fading cut over his right eye that looks like it must have been nasty, and he's got dark circles under his eyes, along with a haggard, tired look to his face that tells Steve he hasn't been sleeping well. Which, Steve thinks is to be expected after the case he's just been on, and if he didn't know better, he'd think that his twin brother was just visiting him unannounced to catch up after a near death experience.

Except Steve knows better.

Because they're not that close, even though they're identical twins. After all, Steve had been through an actual death experience and hadn't felt the need to fly to Virginia and look up his brother. Communication is usually kept to text messages or emails on Christmas or their birthday - he can't remember the last time they were actually in the same room together.

So whatever has Mike looking him up here, it's serious. And not only is he here, but he's not alone - a woman is standing beside him, shifting on her feet as she meets Steve's gaze.  He's slightly taken aback by her appearance, because for all Mike looks like someone rode him hard and put him away wet, she's still making him look like a poster child for rest and relaxation. 

Mike clears his throat, making Steve realise he's been staring a little too long. "Hey," he says, sounding about as awkward as Steve's ever heard anyone sound. "I know it's been a while-"

He doesn't get to say anything else, because Steve's hugging him.

Which, if the sound he makes is any indication, is a hell of a surprise to Mike. It's a surprise for Steve too, but he figures he's already lost one sibling - he's not ready to lose another, no matter how distant they've become and he knows that not too long ago, that was a real possibility.

And maybe Mike feels the same because he stiffens for an instant but only an instant. Then his arms wrap around Steve and he holds on tight for a long moment before he loosens his hold, clapping Steve on the back twice for good measure. They both pull away at the same time, Steve feeling a suspicious lump in his throat and when he looks at Mike, he's sure his eyes are a little wet around the edges.

Steve clears his throat, suddenly unsure of what to say and Claudia must take that as a sign that it's ok to speak, because speak she does, in typical Claudia fashion. "All right, all right, hold up there, Jinksy. You seriously have been hiding an identical twin on me? On me?"  She sounds like she can't make up her mind whether to be annoyed or impressed.

Looking around at her, then at Mike, then back to her, Steve can only think of one thing to say. "Well, duh."

It's his best Claudia impression but if he thought it would amuse her, the glare she shoots him robs him of that notion. "Not funny, Jinsky."

He fights the temptation to roll his eyes, turns instead to Mike with a flourish. "Mike, this is Claudia. Claudia, Mike. My hitherto unmentioned identical twin brother." He doesn't add on "Happy now?" though he thinks it's implied from his tone.

Before Claudia says anything, Mike speaks up. "And Steve, Claudia... this is Debra."

He reaches behind him, takes the woman's hand and pulls her to stand beside him. He doesn't let go of her hand once she's there and he looks at her, squeezes her hand, gives her a smile that's supposed to be reassuring. Debra looks anything but reassured though, the smile she gives Steve and Claudia looking forced and Steve frowns as he looks her up and down. About the same height as Mike, she's got the same haggard look that he has, except her long black hair makes the pallor of her skin even more evident. Like Mike, her eyes have dark circles underneath them and when Steve looks at her the only word that rings in his head is "haunted."

Meeting the family is stressful, Steve knows, but it's not that stressful.

"Good to meet you, Debra," Steve says, reaching out a hand towards her. Her grip is strong, if freezing and he motions over his shoulder in the vague direction of the kitchen and dining room. "Come on in... you guys want some tea, coffee?"

Debra looks at Mike, evidently willing to let him take the lead and Mike looks at Steve, then at Claudia. "We actually need to talk to you, Steve..."

The hairs on the back of Steve's neck stand up instantly. "What's wrong?"

"Why would something be wrong?" Claudia's question is logical when you don't know the history they share and neither Mike nor Steve try to answer it.

"It's something pretty weird," Mike says after a pause where Steve recognises the look on his face; it's the look he used to get when he was trying to say something that either wasn't sure how to say or how what he was about to say would be received. "And I know that you... your job... you have some knowledge of that..."

Steve can practically hear Claudia's hackles rising and when he looks at her, he sees her frowning, staring sharply at Mike and Debra. "Why would you think that?" she asks suspiciously, but Steve has a question of his own.

"How do you know that?"

Now it's Claudia's turn to look at him, which he expected, his question being tantamount to an admission that Mike is right. Which, when your job is at Warehouse 13 which is top secret, is fair enough. He's already figured out the answer though, so when Mike shrugs, shifts on his feet, he's not surprised by the words that go along with the actions. "I was home with Mom a while ago," he says. "We went out for dinner, she got chatty..."

"After a few too many glasses of Pinot Grigio..." It's a guess but a fairly educated one and it's not hard to imagine what would have happened next; Steve's just surprised his mom hasn't fessed up before now.

He doesn't realise he and Mike have fallen into a twin-telepathy type shorthand until he hears Claudia mutter "Freeeeeaky" behind him. He considers throwing her a consoling gaze, or at least an apologetic one, but then Mike continues talking.

"She said you had a new job, that you were investigating paranormal activity in South Dakota... and there was something about an exploding metronome that up until a few days ago, I really thought was just the wine talking..."

"But now you somehow know it's not." Steve frowns, crosses both arms over his chest. "Is this to do with the Carroll case?" He knows he's hit pay dirt when Debra flinches at the name like he's hit her, when Mike's jaw sets firm and he glances at her, takes a step closer towards her. That's when Steve also knows, just like he knew it was going to be Mike at the door, with no rhyme or reason behind it, that whatever has brought them here, it's definitely not to do with Mike.

It's to do with Debra.

"Joe Carroll?" Claudia steps up, stands beside Steve. "You were on that case?"

Mike nods. "We both were." He's not looking at them though, is looking at Debra whose face is even paler than it was a few minutes earlier. "Can we sit down somewhere?"

Neither Steve nor Claudia say anything, just usher them into the living room where Debra all but collapses onto a couch, Mike sitting down beside her and holding her hand. Steve sits on a chair facing them, Claudia standing behind him and when Steve is satisfied Debra's not actually going to pass out, he spreads his hands. "So... the Carroll case."

With a look at Debra and a deep breath, Mike begins. "We didn't think anything of it at the time... just that we were lucky." He stops, shakes his head. "I need to go back... before Joe was killed... we were all in Havenport." Steve's memory obligingly fills in the gap; tales of a town filled with terror, a mansion filled with followers of Joe, an evacuation centre filled with bloodshed. He'd followed every twist of the Carroll case once his mom had told him that Mike had been attacked because of his part in it; he'd been relieved when he'd heard that Joe Carroll was dead. "After all the crap went down at the evacuation centre, after we started rounding up followers, we realised that Debra was missing." His throat catches and Debra clears her throat, takes up the tale.

"Two men jumped me from behind," she says, and Steve can see the effort it's taking her to say those words. "They overpowered me... took me to the Maryland State Forest... and they buried me there... alive... in a coffin."

That hadn't been in any of the news reports and of all the things that Steve has ever seen, before and after working in the Warehouse, that might just be the most horrifying thing he's ever seen. Claudia's hastily muffled gasp tells him that she feels the same way. "When we found her..." Now it's Mike's turn to force the words out. "She wasn't breathing. Ryan... Ryan Hardy did CPR... but it didn't work. He found Joe's manuscript in the coffin, went off to the boathouse... you know the rest. Everyone does. But I was left alone with Debra in the woods...and then she woke up."

Steve blinks. "Woke up."

Mike nods and Claudia speaks up. "So you mean this Ryan guy was wrong... he missed something, didn't give it enough time, right?"

Steve wants that to be the case but he knows that if it were, Mike wouldn't be here. "No." Mike's face is serious, pained, tears barely being kept back. Steve's seen that look before, when Olivia died, and he pushes the memory away. "No, he didn't. I saw Deb... she wasn't breathing, there was no pulse, her lips were blue... she was gone." He shakes his head, sweeps a hand over his eyes. "When she woke up... I told myself exactly what you said. That I was wrong, that Ryan was wrong... we saw what we expected to see, he was so caught up with the whole Joe thing that he wasn't thinking straight... I tried so hard to believe that. We both did."

"So what happened?" Steve looks from one to the other. "What changed your mind?"

Mike and Debra look at one another, like they're trying to figure out how to explain this. After a moment, Debra looks down, looks around the room, pausing when her eyes fall on a table across the room. Standing, she crosses to another table, picks up Artie's letter opener that he must have left there. She slides the opener from its sheath and anyone can react, she drags the blade across her wrist.

Blood spurts from the wound and Claudia's scream is only matched by Steve's shout. Steve's on his feet in an instant, but Claudia reaches Debra first, closes her hands over the wound, stares at Steve helplessly as blood seeps between her fingers. "Get something to stop the bleeding," she orders. "Quickly... and phone an ambulance." Steve looks around for something to stanch the flow of blood and his gaze falls on Mike who is still sitting on the couch, watching as his girlfriend threatens to bleed out all over the B&B carpet, his face completely impassive. "Hey, Not-Jinksy, you want to do something here?"

Claudia's panicked question only elicts a shake of the head from Mike. "No," he says softly, shaking his head. "Look."

Claudia does as she's told, Steve doing likewise and he feels his jaw drop open when he realises that no more blood is dripping onto the floor, that the bleeding has stopped. Claudia's eyes widen as she realises the same thing and she slowly lifts her hands. Debra's skin is stained red but when Steve looks closely at it, he can see that there is no longer any cut there, not even a mark remaining. He stares at the smooth skin for a long moment, then looks at Claudia, then Debra. "That certainly qualifies as weird," he hears himself saying.

A ghost of a smile crosses Debra's lips. "Sorry about the carpet," she says, and against all odds, Steve finds himself smiling as the thought comes to him that he really likes this woman.

"Don't worry about that," he tells her, and he looks over at Mike who stands, crosses the room to Debra and slides his arm around her waist. Steve meets Debra's gaze, then Mike's, and he nods slowly. "You've come to the right place."

*

Debra can't quite believe what she's seeing when she sees Steve for the first time, though she thinks that not believing her eyes is becoming quite common for her lately. It's odd to see someone looking so like Mike, sounding so like him but she knows Mike well enough that straight away she can see some differences too, which is equally unnerving.

She takes no pleasure in unnerving Steve and Claudia with the explanation of why they're there, but once the initial shock has passed, they leap into action like they're following pages in a script and that's when Debra realises that, hard as it is to believe, they really have done this before.

Claudia takes out a device that looks like a Victorian styled cell phone and presses a couple of buttons. Debra blinks when a man's face, all curly hair and eyebrows, appears on the screen and Claudia wastes no time telling them who's here and what the problem is.

"Artie," explains Steve quietly as Claudia talks. "He's our boss."

"Wait, an identical twin? As in Rondé and Tiki Barber, and those little kids from Full House identical twins twin?" Another voice, male, younger sounding, joins the conversation and Claudia rolls her eyes, angles the device so that whoever is on the other end can see Mike. Debra catches a glimpse of a younger, dark haired man, a woman beside him with curly dark hair, identical expressions of surprised suspicion on their faces. "Freaky," the man decides and Claudia turns the device back to her.

"Jinsky has much explaining to do, I have made this clear," she says. "But in the meantime while I think up his punishment, we need to know what might have caused this...Artie, any ideas?"

Artie rubs the bridge of his nose. "Some kind of immortality artifact, maybe a healing one... I'll see what I can find in the records that they might recognise..."

"Artie." When Steve says the other man's name, Claudia angles the device back to him. "Could this have anything to do with Joe Carroll?"

Artie shakes his head. "After the incident with his quill and pen, any and all Poe related objects were checked; they were all negative." He shifts a little, clears his throat. "We checked them again. Recently. Just in case."

"That's why you sent us to Baltimore, posing as museum curators?" The woman sounds surprised but Artie just shrugs.

"Doesn't hurt to be sure," he says.

"Hey, Steve." The other man whispers, leans into the screen and Steve shakes his head as he takes the device into his hand.

"What, Pete?"

"This may be out of left field, but does Debra have a sword anywhere in her possession?" Debra blinks in complete surprise because that's not so much out of left field as outer space, but to her astonishment, Mike lets out a hastily stifled burst of laughter while Steve is fighting back a grin.

"I'm going to go with no on that one," Steve says.

"Come on, man, you never know what the Regents let out into the world under the guise of fiction... You've seen the end of 'Raiders of the Lost Ark', you know what I mean..."

There's a snort that comes from Artie and his face fills the screen a second later. "We'll let you know what we find," he says and the screen goes black.

"A sword, seriously?" 

Mike sounds like he's not sure whether the agent had been joking and Steve's response doesn't provide much of an answer. He simply shrugs his shoulders and lifts his hands. "It's Pete," is all he says because anything else he might have been going to say is interrupted by an enormous yawn from Mike. Pete looks at Claudia, then up towards the ceiling. "You guys must be beat," he decides. "C'mon, let me help you get your bags; Claude, you show Debra to a room..."

Claudia doesn't even blink. "On it," she says simply. 

Mike, on the other hand, puts up more of a struggle. "I'm fine..." he says and Debra's about to contradict him but Steve beats her to it. 

"You're lying," he says and there's a sing song to his voice, a smile on his lips and in his eyes that Debra doesn't understand. Seems she's the only one too, if the snicker from Claudia and the faint flush on Mike's cheeks are anything to go by. 

"Fine," is all Mike says and the next thing Debra knows, Claudia is leading her up the stairs and into a rather quaintly charming bedroom. Mike and Steve don't take long joining them - they'd packed light - and Steve leaves them quickly. The first thing Mike does is take Debra in his arms, holding her tightly against him and she closes her eyes, breathes in his scent. "You ok?" His question is muffled against her hair and she smiles sadly as she pulls back. 

"We need to stop asking each other that," she decides and he doesn't contradict her. "And you need to sleep."

He opens his mouth to protest, yawns instead and must decide to give it up as a bad job. He kicks off his shoes, lies down on the bed and pulls her down beside him. Her head rests against his chest so she can hear his heart beating and she waits until she knows Mike is sleeping soundly, until she hears his deep and even breathing, before she slips out of bed. Crossing to the suitcase in the corner, she pulls a faded grey sweatshirt with a just as faded Wesleyan logo from the top, pulls it on over her thinner knit jumper she's wearing. As is her habit, she pulls it close to herself, wrapping one arm around her body, the other hand going to her lips so that she feels like she's completely surrounded by the warmth of the sweatshirt, by its familiar comforting scent. The first time Mike saw her doing that, he'd grinned and she'd known it had been on the tip of his tongue to make fun of her. But then she'd felt herself blushing and she'd looked down and he'd made a funny noise at the back of his throat before he'd pulled her close and kissed her.

She thinks of that every time she wears his sweatshirt and it never fails to make her smile.

She tiptoes to the door, careful not to disturb him because she knows he needs his sleep. Inching the door shut, she tiptoes towards the stairs, turning at the bottom into the living room, finding it deserted. The living room leads into what looks like a dining room, table all set for tea but there doesn't look to be anyone around. Debra's about to try to find the kitchen when a voice comes from behind her.

"Can't sleep?"

The voice is Mike's, and yet not Mike's, and it makes her jump, has her wheeling around, hand going to her throat like some Victorian damsel in distress. She's embarrassed, because she's an FBI agent and this is not how she's supposed to behave but before she can say anything, Steve raises his two hands, holds them palms up towards her and gives her a smile of his own that manages to look almost as embarrassed as she feels.

"Sorry," he says, and his expression is so like his brother's, so familiar, that Debra instantly feels herself relaxing. "Didn't mean to scare you."

Debra shakes her head, moves her hand from her chest and tries to wave it dismissively; she's not so sure that she pulls it off. The movement draws Steve's attention to her chest, to the sweatshirt with the Wesleyan logo and a flicker of recognition lights his eyes. It makes Debra's cheeks darken, makes her shift on her feet and she starts talking so she won't feel so damn awkward.  "It's fine," she says. "And no, no sleep... too much too process, you know?"

Steve chuckles like he knows exactly what she's talking about, pulls out a chair and motions for her to sit down in it. "Do I ever," is all he says as she sits down. He places a china cup and saucer in front of her. "Tea?" he asks and she's about to accept when a third voices joins the conversation.

"No, no, no, no, no." Debra looks over her shoulder to see Claudia coming towards them, a look of utter disgust on her face and two steaming mugs in her hands. "That... liquid..." The shudder that accompanies that speaks a thousand words, as does the pause before it. "Is not tea. Is not even close to being in the same zip code as being tea." She places a mug on the table in front of Debra. "Hot chocolate," she says with a grin. "We even have the little marshmallows for once."

The aroma of the chocolate makes Debra's mouth water, quite a feat when she hasn't had an appetite for almost a month now. She reaches for the mug, wraps her hands around it and brings it to her lips, breathing in deeply. She feels some of the tension leave her shoulders with just that; the first sip has her closing her eyes and smiling.

"Told you!" Claudia singsongs the words and when Debra opens her eyes, she sees the younger woman's eyes dancing with mischief and Steve shaking his head across the table at her. "Green tea, psssh! There are times when only hot chocolate will do." She tilts her head. "Or alcohol. Possibly alcohol in hot chocolate..."

Steve rolls his eyes but he's still smiling and Debra knows she's staring at him but she can't help it. She knows Mike so well that she can see the differences easily between him and Steve, but every so often there'll be a look, a phrase, and it sends her head reeling. Steve looks at her, meets her eyes and she smiles, looks away. "I'm staring," she says. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise." It's Claudia again. "You think you're the only one doing it? Steve and I have already had words about keeping secrets."

"Honestly, the twin thing, we don't even think about it that much," Steve tells them, something which Claudia evidently finds hard to believe if her snort is anything to go by. "We're used to it," he continues with a shrug. "Besides, somehow, I don't think it's the twin thing that's stopping you from sleeping."

The observation surprises a laugh out of Debra, though there's precious little humour attached to it. "You could say that," she says. She intends stopping there, honestly she does but then she hears her voice continuing, "I haven't slept a full night since Havenport. Less since we realised what was happening to me. I nap, I doze... caught forty winks in the car on the way here. But that's it." She takes a sip of her hot chocolate, savours it before she swallows. "Mike's a little better... but not much." She glances towards the doorway, towards the stairs. "I think the drive tired him out."

There's a frown on Steve's face that's eerily familiar. "How's he been?" Debra blinks and he shrugs again. "I'll ask him... but I've got a feeling he's just going to lie to me."

Claudia snickers, which confuses Debra a little, all the more so when Steve shoots her a look that she knows, the look she's seen Mike shoot Ryan Hardy on more than one occasion when he wants him to stay quiet. "He's holding up," she says after a moment's thought and another sip of hot chocolate. "He has nightmares, like I do. And I think he feels guilty... like he should have got to me faster. He had to tell Ryan that Claire is dead..." Her throat closes up, sudden tears threatening to choke her. "Now there's this." She looks to the ceiling, shakes her head and wills the tears not to fall.

"The weight of the world on his shoulders." Steve's murmured assessment is hard to disagree with and Claudia pushes a plate between him and Debra.

"Artie made snickerdoodles," she says. "I thought we might need some."

Steve chuckles and takes one. "Just this once," he tells Claudia before pushing the plate towards Debra.

"We're going to figure this out," Claudia tells Debra. "This is what we do here." Her quiet confidence puts Debra at ease and even though she wants to believe her, she finds herself actually doing it. For a woman with the trust issues that she has, it's a big deal for her and she's not quite sure how to handle it. It's easier to reach for the plate, take one of the snickerdoodles and bite into it.

"She's right." Steve tilts his head towards Claudia, who raises both hands above her head in a victory salute. "Which she's never going to let me forget..."

"You betcha!"

"I know what it's like to see things you can't explain. The things that we've dealt with..." Steve's face is very serious all of a sudden and a shiver runs down Debra's spine for reasons she can't quite fathom. "This is what we do here, and we've dealt with worse than this. We will get to the bottom of this, Debra. I promise you."

Once again, Debra wants to believe him. And once again, she does.

*

Steve and Claudia keep most of the conversation going as he sips on his tea, her and Debra on their hot chocolate. They end up telling Debra some of their Greatest Hits - cars that can go through walls, horse racing in England, how they first met - and avoid any mentions of metronomes and stabbing Artie in the heart with a dagger. Debra smiles in all the right places, asks all the right questions but Steve is studying her closely, as closely as he can without being too obvious about it, and he knows that only half of her attention, if that, is on their conversation. Not that he can blame her, not with all she's been through, not with all she's just learned, but from the tilt of her head, from the way that she glances every so often over her shoulder, he gets the feeling that she's listening for footsteps overhead, footsteps on the stairs. 

She's listening for Mike. 

He knows his brother is pretty crazy about Debra, can tell that from the way that he looked at her earlier on. From what he's seeing of Debra, it looks to him like she's just as crazy about Mike. The hunch is more than confirmed when Steve hears footsteps on the stairs, glances around to see Mike coming through the door. He's barefoot, still wearing the same clothes that he arrived here in, but his hair is sticking up in several different directions and there's a livid red pillow crease along his right cheek. The look of relief that crosses his face when he sees Debra there is almost comical but Steve eschews making any remarks when Debra stands up and crosses the room quickly, taking his hand in hers. 

"Hey," she says quietly. "I couldn't sleep." She rises up on her tiptoes, brushes her lips over his quickly, and from the look of surprise on Mike's face, Steve guesses that PDA isn't exactly a common occurrence. 

"I figured," he says in response as Debra leads him towards the table. 

"You want some tea?" Steve asks, standing up and gesturing to his chair, the one beside Debra, indicating that Mike should sit down on it. This time, the look that crosses Mike's face is equally as comical - one of pure disgust. 

"If it's that stuff you used to drink that tastes like cat urine, I think I'll pass," he says and Claudia doesn't even try to stifle her burst of laughter. 

"Why, Not-Jinksy, I do believe I'm starting to see the differences in you two," she says, eyes darting from the two men to Debra and back. "We're having hot chocolate," she adds, holding up her cup in illustration. "But we have coffee and regular tea if you'd prefer."

Mike gives her a look like he's not quite sure what to make of her but he smiles, inclines his head in gratitude. "Coffee would be nice."

"Chop chop, Jinksy," Claudia says gleefully and she actually clicks her fingers at him. Twice. "Your brother is thirsty, and I for one would like him to be in fine voice as he tells me all manner of tales of your childhood." She leans in towards Mike, eyes positively dancing with mischief. "And if you could fix me up with any baby pictures, the more embarrassing the better, I'd be forever in your debt."

Steve can tell she's not lying and he shakes his head, looks up at the ceiling. "This is why I never wanted the two of you to meet," he says and Claudia claps her hand to her chest in pretend shock and hurt. 

"Did not my introduction to your mother go well?" Claudia demands and Steve doesn't even want to know what Mike's making of that. "She, in fact, loved me, Jinksy, and you know she did."

"True," Steve allows, and he's about to comment further until he sees the look on Mike's face. He's looking at Claudia like he's never seen her before, his head tilted, brow furrowed and the longer he stares at Claudia, the more the colour leeches from his cheeks. It takes Steve a second to work out why - he sees it so often he's more or less become accustomed to it - but looking at Mike, he's back on the battlefield of a Confederate reenactment, experiencing the exact same sense of déjà vu Mike's experiencing now. Before he can say anything though, the sounds of the front door opening and three familiar voices stop him in his tracks. Claudia's ears perk up and she's on her feet in seconds and before he looks towards the door, Steve sees Mike's hand reach out and close over Debra's. 

"Wow." Pete is the first to speak and Steve is not even a little bit surprised. "Freaky..."

Myka  shoots him a look that's pure exasperation and moves past him, punching him lightly on the arm as she does so. "Ignore him," she says to Mike and Debra, holding out her hand to Mike. "I'm Myka Bering. It's nice to meet you."

Behind her, Pete snickers. "Myka, meet Mike." He looks very pleased with himself and Myka rolls her eyes. 

"You get used to him," she stage whispers and Mike is smiling when he shakes her hand. 

"All laughs gratefully received," he says and from the doorway, Artie makes a noise of disgust. 

"Don't encourage him; we'll be here all day." His eyes move past Mike to Debra, looking her up and down. "And I'm sure you want to get to the bottom of this, so..." He holds up his briefcase and motions them into the living room. 

They follow him in and Claudia's laptop is hastily set up, Artie pushing a thumbdrive into the USB slot. "Myka totally did this for you," Steve hears Claudia mutter and he has to fight back a smile at Myka's proud grin. 

"So," Artie says, getting down to business, "we checked the Warehouse archives for any artifact that may have healing properties, eternal life, the usual..."

"The usual," Mike says, shaking his head. "Sure." 

Artie, perhaps used to Pete, continues as if Mike hadn't spoken. "There are no artifacts missing from the Warehouse, which is a good thing," he says. "So we're looking at rumoured artifacts, stories that have been passed down but that we have no concrete proof of..." He presses a couple of buttons, glares at the machine. "Can you please fix this?"

Claudia steps in, presses two buttons and the image of a woman appears on the screen. "Florence Nightingale's handkerchief," Artie says. "Said to imbue the holder with the power to heal any cut, cure any illness... let me know when something looks familiar to you..." He scrolls through a list of pictures, a story attached to each of them and Steve counts fourteen different artifacts before Debra speaks. 

"Wait..."

Her voice, slow and hesitant, has all eyes in the room focused on her. "Go back," is all she says  but something about the look on her face, the tone of her voice, has Artie obeying instantly, has the hairs on the back of Steve's neck standing up one by one.

"You recognise this?" It's Steve who speaks as Mike moves closer to Debra, and she nods her head slowly as a picture fills the screen. It's a circular medallion, with an engraved ornate tree in the middle of it, some writing on the side that is too small for Steve to identify. Debra nods slowly, swallows hard and in a movement Steve is sure is very, very unlike her, she reaches out and takes Mike's hand in hers.

Artie presses a few buttons and a display appears on the screen and as his eyes flick up and down, Steve sees him frown, eyebrows drawing together. Nothing good, Steve knows, has ever come from Artie looking like that. "It's the Tree of Life," Artie says slowly. "The earliest known representation comes from nineteenth century American midwest.... a man called Allen Dale Walden was believed to have used it, claiming that wearing of this medallion would grant immortality..." He stops talking, looks at Debra and he lifts one eyebrow. It's almost as if he's reluctant to speak and a chill goes down Steve's spine - he's never seen Artie look like that before.

"Immortality, that's got to be what we're looking for, right?"

Pete sounds enthused but doubtful, like he too has recognised the subtle change in the air of the room and isn't sure what's caused it, or what to do about it. Artie speaks slowly, carefully, every word looking like a struggle. "People initially dismissed him as a charlatan, a quack... but there were reports of him surfacing subsequently in different parts of the country, with various different names, but never looking any older..."

"Dale Walden." Debra's voice is so quiet that it's barely audible and when Steve looks at her, she is chalk white. "When I knew him," she says after a deep breath, "His name was Dale Walden. He was the leader of the commune where I grew up... that tree, that was our symbol."

"Commune?" Debra's eyes flick to Claudia as she hears the question that the younger woman didn't ask.

"Cult," she confirms and Artie sucks in a breath. Debra meets his gaze, holds it and nods once.

Steve doesn't understand that little exchange, not at first but when Artie begins to talk he realises that Artie had been wordlessly asking for permission and Debra had just as wordlessly granted it. "Walden would give the amulet to his followers," he says and as Steve begins to ponder just how many artifacts may have been created, Artie says some words that stop him in his tracks. "But not all of them would become artifacts." There's a pause that probably seems longer than it is, because Artie looks more reluctant to get the words out than Steve's ever seen him. "Walden had... has... a certain... predilection... for young girls. And it was when he, ah, became..." He waves his hands in the air in lieu of words and Steve's stomach flips. "When he was with them... the act... the fear... created the artifact."

There's a horrified silence in the room when Artie finishes speaking, with most eyes on Debra. Steve, however, is looking at Mike. One of the things about growing up with an identical twin is never having to wonder what you look like at any given moment in time; he knows that the look of disgust on Mike's face is a direct mirror of the one that he's wearing on his. Mike doesn't look surprised though, just worried and Steve sees his knuckles turn white as he squeezes Debra's hand in his. "You mean..." It's Pete who speaks, which doesn't surprise Steve at all, and Debra just gives him a sad little smile.

"I was fourteen," she says simply. "My parents... they gave me to him." A shudder of revulsion, of memory, runs the length of her body and Steve would give anything, anything, to be able to tell that she's lying. "I ran away two months later." There's another long moment of silence where everyone is dumbstruck, not knowing what to say. It's Debra who breaks it. "Excuse me," she says, standing up. "I think I need some air."

She looks unsteady on her feet as she heads the front door of the B&B and they've barely heard it open when Mike stands too. "I'm just going to-" is all he says before he follows her out.

*

Mike doesn't let the front door close behind Debra, covers the ground between them and catches it just before it swings shut. She walks down the driveway of the B&B, veering off to the left when she spots a bench on the lawn and sinks into it. For a moment, Mike considers the possibility of leaving her alone, that she might need some time to process all they've just heard.

Then her head sinks into her hands and he can't stay away any longer.

He goes to the bench, sits down beside her but he doesn't touch her, doesn't say anything. He waits for her to look up, to say something, say anything, but he's surprised when it doesn't take her very long. There's a small, sad smile on her face when she looks up at him, elbows on her knees, hands on her chin. "I think I shocked your brother," she tells him and he shakes his head, slides the palm of his hand across her back and up to her shoulder. Squeezing gently he pulls her closer towards him, somewhat relieved when he encounters no resistance.

"Somehow, I think he's used to it with this place," he counters and there's a soft huff of laughter against his chest.

"I'm not," she says, pulling back and meeting his eyes. One of her hands goes to her chest, fingers moving as if she's playing with a necklace. "I just can't believe this..." She looks up to the blue sky above, shakes her head. "He promised this, you know... eternal life through purity, devotion, sacrifice... I always thought it was such crap..." There's another short, sharp shake of the head. "My mom would be saying 'I told you so' right now if she were here."

The mention of Debra's mother, as it has done ever since she told him about her life, makes Mike's jaw clench and he tries very hard not to make it obvious. Instead, he deflects the subject slightly. "You have an amulet like that?"

Debra nods. "I was wearing it when I left," she tells him. "That and the nightdress I was wearing, they were the only things I brought with me." She looks around, glances back to the B&B. "It's in my purse upstairs," she tells him and he blinks in surprise. "I take it with me everywhere," she adds, looks down and presses her hands together so tightly that the knuckles turn white. "When I'm working... it helps me to remember why I do what I do... why I wanted Alternative Religions."

Put like that, it makes sense and Mike nods slowly. "I can understand that." He reaches out, covers her hands with both of his. "And you know, Deb... you have to know... I'm here for you. No matter what happens next."

The smile he receives in return is bright and genuine, the kind that Mike lives for seeing. She leans in towards him, presses her lips to his and he returns the kiss, tangling his fingers through her hair, holding her close. She breaks the kiss first, rests her forehead against his, lets out a shaky breath. "So what does happen now?" she wonders. "I mean... obviously, they do whatever they do to stop these things... what happens to me when they do? Am I stuck like this, or do I get the rest of my life back? Or..." Her voice trails off and the hairs on the back of Mike's neck stand up as he realises just what that "or" entails. 

He's silent for a long moment, and when he finally speaks, it's from the heart. "I don't know all the answers, Deb," he tells her. "I know that I'm here with you... whatever happens." He shrugs one shoulder, grins. "I've been thinking lately about you... and me, and us... about the two of us growing old together... I was kinda picturing you with grey in your hair..." He narrows his eyes, leans forward and studies the roots of her hair.   "Or more grey," he teases, pulling on a non-existent strand. It's not the first time he's teased her like that, something along the lines about her being an older woman - he's been known to call her Mrs Robinson on occasion, just to see the look on her face.  She smiles at him now like she always does and he's almost able to pretend that everything is normal, that they're just two people in love, sitting on a bench, enjoying the sunshine. 

She tilts her head and touches his cheek and for just a moment, she looks younger than he's ever seen her, more beautiful too and she almost takes his breath away. "That sounds nice," she says softly as she brings her lips to his. It's a soft kiss, a gentle one, a short one. This time when she pulls back, she stands up. "Let's go back inside."

Hand in hand, they walk back into the B&B. 

When they enter the room, everyone is in pretty much the same positions as they were when he and Debra left. There's been talk in their absence because Mike can hear voices as they walk down the hall, voices that stop when they walk into the room. "Are you ok?" Steve asks, looking from Mike to Debra and back and Mike knows that there's no point lying to him, to any of them. How could any of them possibly be all right after what they've seen, what they heard? 

"No," he says simply. "I thought Joe Carroll was as fucked up as it gets. But this..."

"Oh, this is mild." Pete holds up a hand. "Once you've subverted an apocalypse or two, everything else... Ow!"

The last is when Myka punches him on the arm. "You obviously had a necklace like that at one point," she says, ignoring Pete's hurt expression and looking at Debra. "Do you still have it? Because I'd understand if you didn't..."

Debra nods. "It's upstairs," she says. "In my purse." Myka, Pete, Steve and Artie exchange glances. "I take it you guys know how to... I don't know how to even say this..."

Steve takes a step towards her. "We can neutralise the artifact," he tells her. "It's actually really simple."

"And what happens then?" Mike hears his own voice, strained and barely recognisable. "To Debra, I mean. Is she cured? Or when the effect wears off..." He can't even finish the thought, the memory of Debra, lying pale and still and cold on the Maryland State Forest ground, rising up in his mind's eye, cutting off words. He's lived with that nightmare every day, can see her like that when he closes his eyes and the idea that it might once more come to pass is one that he can't even begin to imagine. 

There's a long, terrible silence where the Warehouse agents look at one another as if trying to decide who gets to break the bad news. "It can vary from artifact to artifact," Myka says finally. "An artifact made me eight months pregnant once... when we neutralised it, poof, no baby." She shrugs, gives a hopeful smile. 

"The metronome," Claudia chimes in. "It was keeping Steve alive, connecting the two of us, so that I felt his pain and if he died, so did I? When the metronome was broken, so was the link, and Steve's fine now, see?" She pinches his elbow, eliciting a yelp of pain from Steve and Mike is suddenly years in the past, watching a teenaged Olivia doing the much the same thing. 

"So you went back to how you were." Mike points at Myka, then at Steve. "You didn't. The metronome was keeping you alive... without it..."

Steve nods, holds his gaze. "I was dead," he confirms and Mike's stomach gives an unpleasant lurch. "It's like Myka said... there are no sure things when it comes to an artifact. We have no way of knowing what neutralising it will do to Debra." He looks at Debra, then back to Mike, a stricken look on his face. "I'm sorry. I wish we did."

"But you don't have to make a decision now," Claudia tells them. "I mean, we're not going anywhere, you have the amulet, you and Not-Jinksy are welcome here any time..." She looks over at Artie. "Right?"

Artie nods quickly, pushing his glasses up on his nose. "Of course," he says. "Though it would be remiss of me not to wonder just how you came to know of the existence of the Warehouse..." He gives Steve a pointed look and Steve doesn't miss a beat. 

"He's my one," he says simply and Artie blinks before nodding, apparently mollified by that. 

Beside Mike, Debra takes a deep breath, squeezes the hand that's been holding his all this time. "I've made up my mind," she says quietly and when Mike looks over at her, her eyes are clear. "I want you to neutralise it. Now." Mike's hand clenches on hers involuntarily and she swallows hard. "I want this to be over, Mike," she tells him. "I can't live my life with that... not knowing."

Mike nods; he hadn't expected anything else. He opens his mouth to say something but the words won't come, anything that comes to mind sounding trite to his own ears, so instead he just raises the back of her hand to his lips, holds it there for a moment. "Let's get that amulet," he says. 

*

When Debra goes upstairs, Mike is right behind her, just like he promised he would be. He's right there as she goes to her purse, finds the small black velvet bag and pulls it out. Sinking down on the bed, she tugs at the drawstring, opening the pouch and slipping her fingers inside. Pulling out the necklace, she lets it swing backwards and forwards, studying it, still scarcely able to believe that this could be the cause of everything that's been going on with her for the few weeks - longer really, because now she thinks back on it, she'd always healed quickly, was rarely sick. All her life, she'd just told herself she had a good immune system - she'd never have believed anything like this possible. 

Beside her, Mike reaches out, touches his fingers to the back of the amulet, stilling its motion. It's the first time he's ever seen it, she realises, and he lets out a breath that's almost like a chuckle. 

"Somehow I thought it'd be bigger," he says. 

"Funny," Debra agrees. "I was just thinking that it looked smaller." She shakes her head. "I've been running from this for so long... for more than half my life. If you'd told me that one day this would save my life..."

Her voice trails off as Mike's hand closes over hers. "My mom always says everything happens for a reason... She told us that when Steve and I were split up and missing each other, and again when Olivia died... I never believed her. But now... I don't know. You and I meeting, the amulet being an artifact, my brother knowing what to do about it... What are the odds of anything like that happening?" She must be looking at him strangely because he gives her a crooked smile. "I know, I know... I'm one step away from talking about a divine plan. But... I don't know, Deb. Maybe everything that's happened to you... to us... maybe it's led us right where we're supposed to be."

"Together?" It's a small enough word but in this room, in this place, it carries a weight of meaning and when Mike's fingers touch her cheek, she knows he understands that. 

"Always," he says and when he kisses her, she wants nothing more than to forget that they have a roomful of people waiting for them downstairs. 

When Mike pulls away, he presses a kiss to the top of her head. "We'll finish that later," he promises and she hopes that he's right. 

When they walk into the living room, everyone is standing and pacing and they all stop in their tracks when she and Mike walk in. "You have it?" Artie asks and Debra holds up her necklace so they can all see it. 

Steve frowns. "I thought it would be bigger," he says and she can't help herself - despite the mood, despite the moment, she giggles. 

"Ok, that was freaky," she tells Mike and while everyone else in the room looks confused, his eyes meet Steve's and both men smile and speak at the same time. 

"Twin thing."

From Steve it's a question, from Mike a statement and from Pete, there comes an immediate pronouncement. "See... I told you... Freeeeeeaky."

Myka gives him an indulgent smile as she pulls a pair of purple rubber gloves out of her jeans pocket, pulls them on. "Artie... Bag?" Artie takes up a bag from beside his chair, one that looks like an old-fashioned doctor's bag and pulls a rectangular silver plastic bag from it. "Thanks," Myka says as she takes it from him. 

"So how does this work, exactly?" Mike asks. "You drop this thing in a roasting bag and we all go back to normal?"

"Neutralising bag," Steve tells him. "You might want to not get too close to it."

"Debra?" Myka's voice is gentle. "The amulet?"

Debra takes a deep breath and hands it over. Myka opens the bag and holds the amulet over the opening and looks into Debra's eyes. "Ready?"

Debra takes another deep breath, turns to Mike and takes both his hands in hers. Standing facing him, she tells him, "If this doesn't work... I love you."

Mike swallows hard and if she knows him at all he's torn between responding in kind and telling her that it will work, that she'll be ok. He goes for the former, tears in his eyes as he says, "I love you too."

Debra doesn't break eye contact with him when she says, "Ready."

From the corner of her eye she can see Myka glance at Steve, see her eyes look up to Heaven as if she's offering a silent prayer. Then she drops the amulet into the silver bag and wenches her head back instantly. 

For a split second, Debra thinks something happened to her but then there is a poof of air and a shower of sparks and she realises that Myka had been expecting that. 

Then she realises that Mike's hands are still clutching hers, hard enough to hurt. 

She's still here. 

She looks around at Myka, at the rest of the Warehouse agents who look hopeful. "That was a big one," Pete says. "I'm glad it wasn't any bigger."

"Did it work?" Mike's question is impatient, eager and Claudia steps towards them. 

"The artifact's been neutralised, hence our little light show. And since Debra's still on her feet, I'd say we're looking good. But there's one thing we should still check." She takes a long sharp kitchen knife out from behind her back. "Don't worry, Artie," she says. "You're safe this time." Handing the knife to Debra, she adds, "First aid box is on the table... a tiny scratch should do it."

Debra's hand shakes as she takes the knife, holds out her left forearm and makes the tiniest incision there. It still hurts like a son of a bitch and she hisses, dropping the knife and clapping her other hand over it instinctively. 

She can feel Mike's eyes staring at her hand, feel everyone else's doing the same thing. 

She courts to one hundred in her head before she removes her hand. When she does, the cut is still there, blood still seeping from it. 

Debra laughs in giddy disbelief, feels Mike wrap his arms around her and she sags against him, buries her head in his chest. 

"OK, it worked." Claudia is all business. "Now can we get you sitting down and bandaged up before I have to clean this place please?"

*

Later, when Debra's arm is disinfected and wrapped to within an inch of its life in a bandage, when Artie, Pete and Myka have gone back to the Warehouse to safely store the amulet and catalogue today's events, Mike and Debra sit at the patio table hand in hand. They are both smiling and Mike doesn't know when he'll be able to stop, certainly doesn't want to stop. "Told you they'd be able to help," he says, like he hadn't been just as nervous as she had been about making the trip out here. 

In reply, Debra simply tilts her head, that smile never wavering. "You did," she says simply. Then she glances down at their joined hands and when she looks up, there is the merest flicker of uncertainty in her eyes. "So... what next?"

Mike squeezes her fingers. He'd be lying if he said he had all the answers, but the last few days - hell, the last few months - have brought it into stark relief what he doesn't want to happen. "We go home," he says. "Back to our lives... to the FBI if they ever unsuspend me..."

"Or allow me back," Debra interjects. She's on medical leave at the moment but both of them have heard the scuttlebutt in FBI circles about the Carroll case and the handling of it - FUBAR and clusterfuck are the kindest words being used and the general consensus is that heads are going to roll over it, with Debra's being the first on the chopping block. 

"Or we take some time..." He's planning it as he speaks. "South Dakota's supposed to be a nice place... I'm not sure what Univille has to offer us, but I've never seen Mount Rushmore... We don't have to hurry back to DC... We don't ever have to go back..." A world of endless possibilities is opening up to him and all of them have one constant - Debra. 

The uncertainty is gone from her eyes, replaced with a dreamy gaze. Maybe she's seeing some of those endless possibilities too. "That sounds nice," she says and just like that he's smiling again, even more now. 

"I think so." He's interrupted when the doors open behind them and Steve comes out. In his hands he has three bottles of beer and he extends two to Mike and Debra. 

"I thought a celebration was in order," he says. "And since we don't have champagne..."

"This will do," Mike decides, raising his bottle into the air. Steve takes the hint, clinks his against it, then against Debra's. 

"How do you feel?" Steve asks Debra as he sits down on the other side of her. 

Debra takes a moment before she speaks, settles on, "Good... I feel good." Steve has no way of knowing that that's quite an admission from her, but Mike does and the easy familiarity between her and Steve is something he thinks he could get used to seeing. 

"Do you think there's going to be any side effects?" It's something that has been on Mike's mind; he figures now is a good time to ask. He doesn't realise how worried he was about it until Steve shakes his head. 

"We've all been whammied by artifacts... some of us more than once. But once they're neutralised?" He spreads his hands wide. "We're back to the way we were before." He looks at them both and nods. "You two have your life back now."

"Thank you." Debra glances back over the shoulder to the B&B then back to Steve. "All of you."

"All in a day's work at the Warehouse." Steve leans back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankles. "I'm glad you guys came." He looks down at the bottle of beer in his hands, finding the label quite interesting all of a sudden. "After all, it's not like we're exactly close..."

Mike swallows hard and from the corner of his eye he sees Debra's gaze darting between them. She places her bottle on the table and stands, squeezing Mike's shoulder. "I'm going to have a nap," she tells him, kissing his cheek quickly. 

He nods as he watches her go and when he turns back to Steve, his brother looks highly amused. "She was lying," is all Steve says and Mike chuckles, raises his beer to his lips. 

"Yeah, I got that," he says before he takes a sip, using those few seconds to figure out what he's going to say next. He decides on the truth - best thing to do when your brother's a human lie detector. "I think she wanted to give us a little bonding time."

"Funny... those were Claudia's exact words when she handed me those beers." Steve places his bottle fully on the table, begins to pick at the label. "I knew you were on the Carroll case... I mean, I figured you would be; I remember you doing your thesis on him... Mom told me about it the first week... she called again when you were in the hospital..." He shakes his head. "I should have called you... I just didn't know if you'd want to hear from me."

Mike sighs, because the next truth is far more unpalatable than the previous. "I probably wouldn't have," he admits and Steve doesn't look affronted. "After the attack... I was in a bad place. Then we ended up in Havenport and it all went to hell pretty quickly." He chuckles without humour. "The Bureau have us down for mandatory therapy sessions next month; I have no idea how we're going to explain this..."

"I'll talk to Artie," Steve volunteers. "There must be some sort of Warehouse approved therapist on an FBI list somewhere." 

Mike nods, ignoring the flare of curiosity about the inner workings of the Warehouse and gearing up for some more honesty. "We should both be dead..." Steve's eyes widen in surprise and he adds, "Me and Debra. In Joe's manuscript... his plan... I was shot in the woods. Debra..." He can't talk about that yet, some wounds being too painful, but he knows Steve understands. "But we're still here. Joe's dead... but we've got another shot. So maybe things aren't as bad as I thought."

Steve grins. "I'm glad to hear you say that," he says, "because I'm not ready to lose another sibling. I figured that out today when I saw you standing in the hallway."

"I can't believe that was this morning." Mike rolls his eyes, rolls his head and shoulders as the day starts to catch up with him. "This day feels like it's been six months long."

Steve jerks his chin towards the door. "Go... get some sleep. We can talk tomorrow." For the first time, his face betrays some doubt. "When are you heading back?"

"We're not sure," Mike tells him. "We thought we might stick around for a few days... if that's ok, that is."

"Oh, I'm pretty sure Claudia would have a stroke if you didn't... she wasn't kidding about those baby photographs, by the way." 

Mike lifts one eyebrow. "I may not have your ability, but I could tell." His smile fades suddenly and it's easier to look at the label on his beer bottle than Steve. "There was a moment earlier... before everyone got here..." He swallows hard. "Something about the way she spoke to you..."

"Reminded you of Liv." Steve is nodding, a small, fond smile on his lips and Mike nods. "It's not just you... Mom saw it too, the first time she met her." Steve shrugs. "It freaked me out at first... then I got used to it. It's kinda nice, actually... It helps me remember the way things were. Before."

"I always thought I'd have more time to get to know her better... spend more time with her." Not for the first time, Mike curses the judge whose Solomon like wisdom had left Steve with their mom and Olivia, sending him to live with their dad and brothers. "With both of you." 

Steve leans back in his chair, regards him thoughtfully. "We've got time now," he says. "Plenty of it."

Mike raises his bottle of beer, clinks it against Steve and for the first time in a very long time, sees a smile on his brother's face that's a mirror of his own. 

He doesn't know how much longer he spends there, talking to Steve, trading stories and putting the world to rights, but he stays until his eyes are heavy and every second word is a yawn. Then they walk inside together and Mike hugs Steve again, waves a goodnight to Claudia as he walks up the stairs. When he reaches his room, he finds Debra asleep, curled up on top of the covers, wearing the t-shirt he'd been planning to sleep in and nothing else. He lies down beside her, kisses her gently and she blinks her way to wakefulness slowly, looking confused and utterly adorable. 

"You're back..." she murmurs. "Did you have a good talk?"

Mike nods as he sits up and unbuttons his shirt before standing to take off his jeans. "We did," he says, finding it almost hard to believe. "Really good."

"You could have stayed," she says, even as her fingers moving over his skin belie her words. 

"We'll talk more tomorrow," Mike tells her, his fingers doing some exploring of their own. "There's nowhere else I want to be right now," he says, lying down beside her, showing her in actions, rather than words, the truth of his words. 

After all, he thinks, they've got all the time in the world and he knows just what he wants to do with it. 

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Art for helsinkibaby's all the time in the world](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1858719) by [taibhrigh](https://archiveofourown.org/users/taibhrigh/pseuds/taibhrigh)




End file.
